


All He Wants is a Puppet!

by Anonymous



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: :), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bodyswap, Canon-Typical Violence, Creeper Hybrid Sam | Awesamdude, Eventual Happy Ending, Gen, Light Angst, Mild Blood, Please tell me what to tag, Possession, Potions, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), author took an idea and ran with it, but that's just for scare factor, except for the epilogue haha, the kids finally go to therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-26 16:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30109050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: On a visit to the prison around February 1st, Tommy finds out Dream has a plan of getting out.Unlike the normal timeline, Tommy’s body doesn’t die. It is, however, put under new management.Tommy won’t give up on it so easily.Alternatively, Tommy gets Sock Opera-ed.
Relationships: Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit, Tommyinnit & Toby Smith | Tubbo
Comments: 16
Kudos: 114
Collections: anonymous





	1. Glass Cuts

**Author's Note:**

> this is set on february 1st because that's when i started writing this lol  
> i wanted to get the whole fic done before posting  
> this isn't going to be very good or in character, it's mostly just me playing around with the body swap trope haha

The oppressing walls of lava surrounded Tommy, making him feel like he was the one in jail. Thankfully, he wasn’t, he was just visiting. Still, though, the height combined with the molten liquid made him uneasy. He took a deep breath. _In and out,_ he reminded himself. _We go in, and then we leave._

The Warden spoke up as soon as Tommy had stepped off the platform. “Alright, I’ll pull the bridge back, and then you can speak to the prisoner. Also, don’t get too close, he has a water bottle on him.”

Tommy was going to laugh, before he remembered glass hurt. He avoided looking at said prisoner, staring at the escape until it was all the way back at the start.

“You’re back,” _he_ said.

Tommy winced, but he turned around and faced Dream. His worst enemy, his tormentor, the voice in his nightmares. Not that Tommy would ever admit that last one, he had a reputation to uphold.

Tommy crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, I am. You look terrible.”

That, at least, wasn’t a lie. Dream’s mask was still cracked from his two deaths, his clothes were still unchanged, and some blood (was it blood? It didn’t look right.) dripped from his mouth.

“Thanks,” Dream responded. His tone was always hard to read. Tommy hated that.

Tommy had to remind himself to breathe. He didn’t know why his stomach hurt so much. “So, what’ve you been up to?”  
Dream’s hands were in his pockets. “I mean, not much. I’ve been writing your books, but you can’t see them yet.”   
“I’m excited to read them.” He was, actually. It’d be very funny when he sees Dream writing books about girls for a teenager.

“I’ve been pretty lonely, you know. Only you and Bad have visited me.”  
“Well, sucks to be you,” Tommy retorted. He didn’t feel bad. Anytime he did, he just remembered how Dream had made him be this isolated once. So no, Tommy did not feel bad. Tommy noticed something else. “Hey, where’d your clock go?”  
“I burned it,” Dream replied. Tommy frowned. He liked turning the clock around.

“Well, how does it feel now that you’re the alone one?”

“Pretty bad. You really have had your revenge, Tommy.”

A smile quirked on Tommy’s face. “I have, haven’t I?” He held out his hand. “Well, be seeing you. Have fun in prison!” Tommy didn't want to be here any longer.

Dream took the outstretched hand.

Now, if Tommy hadn’t been blinded by hubris and a sharp need to get out as fast as possible, he would’ve remembered the aforementioned glass bottle Dream had on his person. He would have also noticed the masked man’s free arm coming out of the pocket with said glass bottle, this time filled with an unknown substance.

But Tommy noticed neither of these things, so he was rather surprised when he felt sharp glass strike his hand.

Tommy tried to pull his hand back in shock, but Dream grabbed his arm with his now free left hand and _pulled._ He wasn’t pulling Tommy’s arm, though. 

With lack of a better phrase, _he pulled Tommy out of his own body._

It felt like being pulled out of his skin. Tommy was thrown back, though he wasn’t connected by gravity anymore and floated listlessly above the ground. Tommy looked around frantically to see his own body on the ground. That was never a good sight.

At a loss for words, Tommy hung in the air as his body moved without his consent, also not a good sight.

It was reanimated like a corpse, slowly moving every muscle until it stood straight, too straight for Tommy’s normal slouched posture, cracked its neck, and opened its eyes.

Tommy’s body looked right at the bodiless Tommy. “That was easy,” it said in Tommy’s voice.

Taking advantage of context clues, Tommy found his words. _“Dream!?”_ he yelled.

Tommy’s body laughed in an all too familiar way. “Mhm,” Dream said. He looked at Tommy’s hands, one of which was bloody from the glass shards. “Wow, this really is something.” He shoved the bloody one into Tommy’s pants pocket. “Well, thank you, Tommy, but I’ll be off now.”

Properly stunned, Tommy’s mouth hung open as he stared at the puppeteer.

“Sam!” Dream shouted. “I’m ready now!”

Tommy regained his voice. “Wait-wait-wait, what the hell are you doing!?”

Now that he could actually see the expression, Tommy realized just how cold Dream’s eyes were. “Escaping,” he replied.

“Y-You can’t just-just be me!” Tommy stuttered.

“Well, not forever, no,” Dream admitted. “Just until my body’s out of here. Even I have my limits.”

The lava was draining rather quickly.

“Y-You can’t-!!”

“I _am,_ Tommy. See you soon.”

Dream stepped onto the moving platform, changing his expression to something more fitting as Sam was now in view. Tommy was stuck in the air as he watched his worst enemy escape prison in his skin.

_**“WHAT just happened!?!?”** _

Tommy stared at the lava obscuring his eyes and ears from freedom. The teenager was trying to process all of this. It was not going well. The shock soon morphed into anger in true Tommy fashion.

“What does he think he’s doing!?” Tommy yelled. “He can’t just- that shouldn’t be _possible,_ I’ve never heard of a potion doing _this!”_ He gestured at his transparent appearance.

As Tommy continued to rant to himself, his ghostly form reached the ground, not that he could feel it.

“Okay!” Tommy ran his hands down his face. “What am I gonna do?”

He looked at the now blocked exit. Despite the fact he could most likely just go through it, the thought of willingly going into lava still made him queasy.

Tommy began to pace, trying to think of an idea. This was stopped when his foot nearly collided with something (Though, he probably wouldn’t have felt it). Dream’s body was still on the floor.

Tommy glared at it. He muttered a few curse words and kicked it.

Bad idea.

Tommy was hit with a reverse feeling to his consciousness being pulled out. It happened in an instant, one moment Tommy was in the air and the next he was laying on the warm obsidian floor and could feel his fingers again. Tommy sat up in shock, realizing he was corporeal once more.

“Wait, what?” he muttered, bringing his hands to his face. He was met with black fingerless gloves and the sleeves of a green hoodie.

Tommy’s face (was it his face?) paled. He patted himself down, feeling the unfamiliar clothes he wished he didn’t recognize. He felt _the mask_ on his face (which somehow was not obscuring his vision). He slid back in a panic, trying to convince himself that _no_ , he was not _him,_ he can’t be, _it’s not possible._

_Well, getting thrown out of your own body wasn’t supposed to be possible, either._

Tommy was doing his best to not have a panic attack on the spot. He tried to slow his breathing. _Like Sam said. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. In four, hold seven, out eight…_

“Ok-” he started, until he heard his voice. He sounded like _Dream_ (and American, ew). Tommy took another deep breath. _Don’t start freaking out again._ “Okay,” he continued, in Dream’s voice. “I’m somehow in Dream’s body, and he’s in mine.” Tommy had an idea to lessen his panic. “Hey, I can finally take off this mask!” He hated wearing it.

He reached under it, but as he was about to undo the straps, he felt something on his hand. On the tips of his fingers was hot black… _goo._ Tommy yelped in disgust and threw it off his fingers. “Okay, don’t take the mask off!”

Tommy stood. Dream’s body felt weird. It felt fatigued, but Tommy didn’t feel tired. Did Dream sleep? Did he _need_ to sleep?

“What is he, anyway?” Tommy asked himself. Obviously he couldn’t check, he didn’t want to touch the goo again. Tommy didn’t feel any extra appendages or anything, but he was always unsure of Dream’s humanity in the literal and figurative sense.

C’mon, focus. “What am I gonna do?” Tommy began to pace. He’s in an inescapable prison as an inmate, he can’t just walk out. Not to mention the lava, and…

“Sam!” Tommy snapped his fingers. “I can have Sammy get me out! He’s a reasonable fellow!”

Were there security cameras in here? Tommy tapped his foot. “Okay, so wait for Sam, get out, get my body, and laugh at Dream’s failure.” Sounded like a plan.  
Tommy didn’t like hearing his words with Dream’s voice. They sounded off. “I miss my body,” he mumbled. Then, he sat down and waited for the Warden.


	2. Plotting and Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slaps fic* this bad boy can fit so many contrivances and plot holes in it  
> seriously though, this fic isn’t very accurate as to what would happen, just roll with it

Dream was having a great time. It was hard not to when everything worked out so _perfectly._ He didn’t even need to prompt Tommy to shake his hand! What a fool.

After studying the kid for a while in exile, he felt he had a pretty good grip on Tommy’s mannerisms. Talk about women, swear, and be very loud. Dream could do that. It was nice that the potion let him take on Tommy’s voice automatically, too. Admittedly, Dream wasn’t very good at accents.

Sam hadn’t noticed anything either. It was hard to tell with the Warden persona, but Dream was very good at reading people. So now Dream was strolling along the Prime Path a (soon to be permanently) free man.

Although he was fairly confident in his ability to impersonate the kid, he tried to avoid people. Mostly out of habit, but he couldn’t risk slipping up. He had work to do.

First order of business was giving someone their due. He grabbed a spare blank note from Tommy’s house as he left.  
It was quite a trek to the place he needed to visit, but Dream remembered the way. He’d visited quite a lot in the previous months.

Dream shivered slightly, which was a rather foreign experience to the formerly masked man. “I miss my hoodie,” he mumbled as he walked through the snow in tennis shoes. Why didn’t Tommy have a coat on his person? It was January!  
Nevertheless, Dream arrived. Scribbling a message onto the note, he left it where he was sure the person in question would see it. And then he left.

He’d heard Snowchester was wonderful this time of day.

~

Tommy was thankful Dream had so many books. He spent his time waiting and writing, his only other options being freaking out or sobbing. He found it was easy to ignore any feelings of dread when you’re writing about women.

Tommy was not getting used to being in a form not his own. Everything felt _off,_ like the body didn’t move right. Tommy would compare it to holding an improper sword. It was clunky, weird, and not built for him.

Just then, he noticed the lava receding. Tommy grinned. Sam’s coming, which means his escape was coming. The hard part, though, would be convincing Sam of his identity.

He saw the familiar green color of the Warden start to approach Dream’s cell. Tommy flashed a smile before realizing Sam couldn’t see him. Stupid mask.

The Warden pushed a plate of raw potatoes into the cell. Before he could leave, Tommy took his chance.

“Uh, Sam-” Tommy cringed at how much his voice sounded like Dream’s. “Before you go, I have a bit of a problem.”

“What’s that, Dream?” Sam’s voice was neutral.

_“You’re just like Dream.” A voice from the past cried. “You’re just like him.”_

Tommy swallowed the memories down. “Uh, well, that’s the thing, I’m not actually Dream. And I can prove it!” he added, knowing that Sam wouldn’t believe him. “I can prove it, I’m actually Tommy! You see, Dream did a little switch-a-roo type deal, and now I’m him and he’s me. So I was hoping we could get my body back because this really sucks, Sammy, I can’t stress that enough-”

Sam held up a hand. “You’re Tommy?”

Tommy nodded profusely. “Yeah, I can prove it, too! I haven’t told Dream everything, because he’s a wrongen, you know.”

“Hm.” Sam’s tone was still impartial. “When was the last time me and Tommy spoke?”

Tommy recalled the incident. He frowned. “Are you really gonna make me get all vulnerable again?”

Sam was silent.

Tommy’s voice was a bit more subdued. “Fine. I went to your house and you helped me out of a nightmare. I told you about my exile. You made me food. And... I told you that you’re the first person in a long time to actually care about me.”

Sam looked thoughtful. “Okay. You could be Tommy. But I can’t let you out, you’re still a prisoner.”

Tommy frowned deeper. “But if I’m Tommy, then I’m not a prisoner, right?”

“Even if you are Tommy, you still have the body of a prisoner.”

The teenager brightened. “You believe me?”

Sam made a ‘so-so’ gesture, which was good enough for Tommy.

“Okay, how ‘bout this,” Tommy tried. “You let me out, but you handcuff me in case I am Dream. I’m not, though.”

Sam rubbed his temples. “If I do, do you swear that you will not try to break free until I authorize you to?”

“Yeah, I swear.” Tommy’s hands found their way into Dream’s hoodie pocket. He froze. “Uh, Sammy?”

“What is it?”

“I think, uh, your prisoner’s got some contraband.” Tommy pulled out a book and what looked like leftover potion materials. He handed them over.

Sam flipped through the pages, his expression flickering with what looked like worry. He shut it and tucked the items into his inventory. He turned his attention back to Tommy. “Alright, Tommy, let’s go.”

Tommy grinned. “Yeah! Sammy! Thanks, my friend!”

Tommy could’ve sworn he heard Sam mumble, “I better not regret this,” as he went to lower the barrier.

Tommy would make sure he wouldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it feels cheap saying this but comments are appreciated


	3. Approaching Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i set this in february because that's when i wrote this so i knew nothing past february lore. just keeps it consistent

Sam could say he’d had weirder days.

Sure, he was letting the prisoner out with only a piece of metal keeping him from possibly wreaking havoc. Sure, said prisoner was most likely Tommy in a Freaky Friday scenario, which Sam was still trying to wrap his head around. _Sure,_ he had failed to notice the contraband that violated way too many policies and pretty much confirmed Dream was not currently Dream.

Sam still wanted to say this wasn’t the weirdest day of his life.

He had questions. _Obviously._ But if the person in shackles walking next to him really was Tommy, Sam was going to treat him as such.

Speaking of which…

Tommy(?) looked uncomfortable. It was obviously hard to tell, but Tommy was easy to read. Yet another clue of his true identity. It was plain to see why, the kid was apparently forced into the body of his abuser.

Now that they were out of the prison, Sam’s grip softened. “How are you feeling, Tommy?”  
Tommy shrugged. “Ah, just fine. Being body-swapped with my greatest enemy is so great.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. Hearing Dream’s voice say things only Tommy would was unorthodox, to say the least. 

“I mean it, Tommy.” Sam kept saying his name. If it was Tommy, he would not take well to being compared with the prisoner.

“I know,” Tommy mumbled. “Not great, Sammy,” he admitted.

“That’s understandable.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed. He paused. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“Where I think Dream would be,” Sam replies. Snowchester. Sam remembers Tommy telling him about the Disc Confrontation. Tubbo had been a stepping stone in Dream’s plan. He needed to make sure the kid wasn’t in danger. He hates being vague to Tommy, but he can’t risk it if this is all a trick.

Sam wished he could read Tommy’s expression, the kid was normally so open.

Tommy spoke up, “I really hope this isn’t permanent.”

Sam looks back at him. “It won’t be, Tommy.”

Tommy hunched in on himself. “It’s just… I’ve been compared to Dream before, and it got to a point where I had nightmares about becoming him.” He laughed humorlessly. “Guess I was right.”

Sam had Tommy face him. “Tommy, you are not Dream. This was not some act of the universe. You know what was in that book?”

Tommy shook his head.

“It was a recipe,” Sam answered. “A potion I haven’t even seen before. But its effects are… this. I have no idea how he got it, but it’s not your fault.”

Tommy’s shoulders relaxed. “Thanks, Sammy.”

They kept walking.

~

Tubbo wasn’t normally a suspicious person.

Okay, maybe he was suspicious _sometimes,_ but usually never about Tommy. Tommy was easy to read. If he was hiding something, you could tell. There was nothing to be suspicious of since he was terrible at keeping secrets.

Which is why Tubbo was confused by how he couldn’t read Tommy’s mien today.

Tommy had arrived at Snowchester to visit Tubbo. This wasn’t abnormal, of course, but it was unexpected. Tubbo had thought everything was normal, but something about Tommy’s expression put him off.

It was familiar, but not the _right_ kind of familiar.

It was his smile, Tubbo realized as Tommy went on about his day. Tubbo had never seen Tommy smile like that before.

Tommy’s smile was usually bright. He’d smile with his whole face and Tubbo couldn’t help but smile back. Today, though, it was small, more like a smirk. And it never left his face.

Tubbo didn’t want to admit it, but Tommy didn’t sincerely smile too much, at least recently. To see Tommy with a grin never leaving his face should have felt good, but it didn’t.

“And that’s when I realized - Oi! Are you listening, Big Man?” Tommy’s voice snapped Tubbo out of his thoughts.

“Oh, uh, sorry, Tommy, I spaced out,” Tubbo answered.

Tommy crossed his arms. “Well as I was saying, I realized my girlfriend - which I do have, by the way - sent me things telling me how awesome I am and I fell in a hole and _that’s_ why my hand’s in a bandage.”

Oh, right. That’s what they were talking about. “Well, I can give you some healing pots if you need.”

Tommy waved a hand. “Nah, it makes me look cooler. Which I thought was impossible, but hey, there’s always room for improvement.”

Tubbo was going to reply before his communicator buzzed.

_Awesamdude whispers to you: Keep him talking. I’m on my way._

Tubbo held in a breath. ‘Him’ as in Tommy? Did Sam notice how he’s been acting? And if Sam knew and was coming, was it serious?

It could be that Egg. Or Dreamons. Or something else.

“What’s that about?” Tommy asked, gesturing to the communicator.

“Sam,” Tubbo says honestly. “He just asked if I want to come over to the hotel later,” he lies.

Tommy nods. 

_Keep him talking,_ Tubbo realizes. “How’s the hotel coming along, anyway?”

“Good, good,” Tommy says. “Hopefully it should be done soon.”

“Cool,” Tubbo says a bit awkwardly. “Uh, can I borrow your boots?”

“Sure,” Tommy says, and hands them over without hesitation.

_Tommy wouldn’t hand over armor without asking why._

Tubbo turns his back on Tommy(?), fitting the boots on his feet.

_You whisper to Awesamdude: Basement, hurry._

“Are you alright?” Maybe-Tommy asks.

Tubbo, still with his back turned, steadies his breathing. “You’re not Tommy, are you-”

An arm wraps around his throat.

Tubbo is forced to the ground, but Not-Tommy holds him tight.

It’s scary how his demeanor shifts. Not-Tommy pulls out a sword. “Clever,” he says. He presses the tip into Tubbo’s waist. “You figured it out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha.  
> c-comments?


	4. A Confrontation Of Sorts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go

Tommy was not having a good day.

That much was obvious, being stuck as your greatest enemy who you may or may not still fear doesn’t bode well for you. But Tommy’s day was even worse, for Tommy realized where they were going. And all that entailed.

Tommy cursed as he saw Snowchester getting closer. “Tubbo!” he shouted.

Sam held him back. “Tommy,” he whispered. “You sound like Dream right now. People would think I’m helping him escape. Stay quiet, okay?”

Tommy held his breath. He really wanted to forget about his current situation. “Where are they?” he said, quieter this time.

“Tubbo’s basement.”

Still in handcuffs, Tommy was led by Sam, who was obscuring the former from any potential witnesses. 

Sam struggled a bit with the ladder, but he mentioned it was easier to go down than climb up. Creeper traits were strange. He beckoned Tommy down. 

“You have the clock?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Tommy responded. The clock in Dream’s front pocket was part of their plan.

_“A day?” Tommy repeated._

_“Yes. We only need to keep him talking until the sun sets. I checked the recipe, and some of it was unused. The time limit should be off. If this works, the potion will wear off and you’ll get your body back,” Sam explained._

_“I’ve never heard of a pot lasting that long.”_

_“It’s a special brew. I’ve never even heard of it before, but potions aren’t my area of expertise.”_

_A day. Only an hour or so left. Tommy hoped they got there in time._

“Let’s go.”

And they headed down the ladder.

Only to find Tubbo with a sword to his chest. Holding the hilt was none other than Dream.

It was disorienting, to say the least.

Tommy seeing _himself_ put a sword to his best friend fulfilled every nightmare he’d ever had. That alone made him want to cry. But the way Dream held the body, his posture, his expression, _everything,_ was so fundamentally _not Tommy_ that Tommy could remind himself that Dream was not him. Tommy wouldn’t do this to Tubbo. He wouldn’t.

Dream’s expression was as emotionless as Tommy had imagined. So calculating and cruel, like he didn’t even have to try to rip you apart in body and mind (Which, considering the Disc Confrontation, probably would have been likely). He looked calm, like he wasn’t currently threatening a teenager.

Tommy found his words. “Let him go,” he choked out.

Dream’s mouth quirked. “Tommy,” he greeted. “You took my body,” he noticed, ignoring the surprised exclamation of _“Tommy!?”_ from Tubbo.

“Yeah, idiot. Y-You’re a real idiot, Dream. And a wrongen. I figured it out because I am a smart man.” Tommy turned his attention to Tubbo, “Tubbo! I’m actually Tommy, Dream stole my body because he sucks and I am not having a good day!”

“Uh, okay!” Tubbo replied, looking very lost. Sam would back him up, though.

Sam stepped forward. “Dream,” he said. “I’m going to have to ask you to come back to the prison.”

_He’s using his Warden tone,_ Tommy noticed. Sam could be scary. _Really_ scary. But Dream looked unphased.

“No,” he stated. “Let me tell you what we’re going to do. You’re going to do what I say, or I’m going to kill Tubbo.”

Tommy’s eyes widened.

_The savanna mountain. The ~~battle~~ play fight. Tubbo._

_The small hole, containing everything he’d worked so hard to get._

Tommy blinked out of the memory. Dream couldn’t see him like this (Literally, he supposed, with the mask and all). See him _scared._

He isn’t scared. He’s a big man.

Tommy glances at the clock angled to face him without being spotted. Three minutes.

“You really thought this whole thing out, ey Big D?” _Keep him talking. Save Tubbo._

Dream’s grip on Tommy’s best friend was too tight. “Yeah. I told you I’d escape, Tommy.”

“How’d you even make a potion, eh?”

“A friend,” Dream stated. “I have a lot of connections, you know. Sam’s been pretty slack with security lately.”

Tommy side-eyed Sam. The Warden paled at Dream’s words. “What do you mean, Dream?”

“Nothing. It’s not my business to reveal my associate.”

“I think it is.”

“I don’t really think you’re in a position to interrogate me, Sam.” Dream’s voice grew dangerously serious.

_Just a little longer. Please._ “Y-You’re right. Now, uh, good on you for putting this whole thing together. I never woulda’ guessed the whole potion thing,” Tommy intervened.

“...Yeah,” Dream agreed, his voice suggesting he was suspicious. “Tommy, you’re not trying to stall me, are you? Because, I assure you, the potion still lasts a while longer.”

_He actually messed up the recipe,_ Tommy realized. _He messed it up!_ For once, he was actually grateful that the mask hid his expression, the clear hope on his face.

“I know,” Tommy lied.

“Do you?” Tommy hated that tone. It brought back too many unpleasant memories. “Because if you are hiding something from me, I could just kill Tubbo now.”  
Tommy almost cried out then and there, but Sam’s hand gripped Tommy’s shoulder. “That won’t be necessary, Dream.”

“And why’s that?”

The clock clicked.

Tommy felt like he was being pulled through ice water, leaving the body he was in behind and moving through solid air.

Oxygen returned to his lungs. His hand gripped a sword. Tubbo was in his arms.

Tommy dropped the sword and hugged his best friend _“Tubbo!”_

He was finally back in his body. He felt more at home, like his form actually belonged to him. His motions felt more comfortable. And he finally got rid of that stupid mask.

Tubbo flinched in surprise. He paused, then, “Tommy!?”

“Yeah, Big Man,” Tommy whispered. “I’m back.”

Looking up, he saw Sam holding Dream, _in his own body_ , tightly. The handcuffs were still around Dream’s wrists. As usual, his expression was impossible to read. Tommy could tell he wasn’t happy, though. He stayed quiet.

“Eyyyy, Green Boy!!” Tommy shouted. “Looks like ya failed again, loser! You know why? 'Cause you suck!” He shouted a few more insults and curse words, Tubbo joining in, until Sam held up a hand.  
“Alright, alright. I need to put the prisoner back. Tubbo, I’ll need you to find me a way out, since,” he gestured at his inhuman legs. “Then, take Tommy home. Tommy, I’ll meet up with you later.” Lowering his mask, Sam smiled at Tommy. “I’m proud of you two.” The kids smiled back.

Tubbo set to work. The Warden turned to his prisoner. “Now, Dream, we _are_ in a position of interrogation. I need answers. And you’re going to tell me all of them.”

~

The bench. Where else?

Tommy was sitting with his head on Tubbo’s shoulder, tapping his fingers to “Cat.”

Tubbo glanced at him. “Are you okay, Tommy?”

“M’Fine.”

“You always say that.” Tubbo sounded serious.

Tommy sighed. “Okay, not really. But I’ve been worse.”

_“Tommy,”_ Tubbo insisted.

“Okay, okay,” Tommy relented. “I’ve just been thinking a lot. I thought I was done with Dream, but he clearly isn’t done with me. And seeing myself… _in_ him, i guess, it just made me think about all the times I’ve been compared to my worst enemy. I don’t know, I might just sleep it off.”

Tubbo hummed. “Well, you know, Puffy’s gonna start up a therapy business soon. I might check it out, I got some things to talk about. Would you like to come with me?”

Tommy couldn’t ask for a better friend.

He scoffed. “You’re so clingy, Tubs.”

Tubbo laughed. And Tommy did too.

And it felt good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay! good ending! only an epilogue left! :) might post it later today, it's really short


	5. An Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A loose end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> epilogue! :)

Ranboo was having a good day.

He had a successful mining trip, he picked out some more music to listen to, and Techno promised to take him on an adventure tomorrow! Overall one of the best days he’d had in a while. Between the stress of war and his ideals, it was nice to have a place where he could be truly safe.

Heading home from said mining trip, he bobbed his head to a song in his head.

“Ba-ba-ba-bum-ba…” he muttered with the pitches.

He reached his house.

Or, well, he would’ve if not for the chest in the way.

Ranboo stopped humming and looked quizzically at the box. He hadn’t put it there. Even with his memory loss, he would’ve remembered something blocking his entrance. He was sure.

_~~Is it a disc?~~ _

Ranboo opened the chest.

A note lay in it.

_~~Don’t read it don’t read it don’t read it don’t~~ _

Ranboo picked it up. It could be a new mailbox. Maybe someone borrowed an item and this was their note. Maybe.

Ranboo read the note.

_Thanks for the recipe.  
:)_

Ranboo trembled. His hands shook. His eyes widened in utter horror as he read and reread the words and signature that couldn’t be in front of his face.

That was Dream’s handwriting.

“Dream,” Ranboo whispered. “He- He couldn’t, there’s no way, he- Recipe!?”

Ranboo was cold.

“How could he send me this? H-How, there’s… there’s no way, he’s in prison! He couldn’t just…”

The ringing in his ears grew louder.

_“What have I done?”_

Ranboo blacked out.

Familiar music plays faintly, but slowly increases in volume. In his unconscious state, Ranboo only sees one thing.

A smiley face with a crown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> r-remember chapter 2 where dre gave someone a note???? haha.......
> 
> thanks for sticking with this fic :) it was a fun ride

**Author's Note:**

> there would be more swearing but i don't really write swears so just imagine there's more  
> anyway 4 chapters left


End file.
